where it stands

Still jobless. I've turned in 12 applications/resumes and not one call-back. Working on queries, but having a hard time suddenly. Job hunting is so much harder here. And, strangely, no one has required my photo along with the CV. ha. That was strange the first time it was requested in Ha Noi, but it's very common, I found out.

My sister-in-law is selling her house and darn it, I'd buy it if I could find a way. Check it out. Seriously, beautiful home in beautiful Oregon.

Morning after

So, I guess I had some info wrong about the start and end time. I'd been told midnight to midnight, but in actuality it was 6am to 6am (PST). I think it's the time zone thing that messed me up. Oh well. It was still good for me to do and it raised a little money for the Tam Ky orphans. That gets added to the clothes I got for them. Now, on to finding blankets and a way to get it all to them.

First, I've got to make some breakfast for my kids.

bedtime

It's the midnight post and I'm tired. I'm glad I did the blogathon and got some some stuff posted that I've been wanting to get up online. Must keep up with it. Thanks for accompanying me on my revisiting Viet Nam.

It's time for some real writing, queries and all that fun stuff. I applied to four jobs while blogging today, too. So who knows... something is bound to come up. Right?

g'night

Books

What I'm reading:
On Writing Well by William Zinsser
Mirror, Mirror by Gregory Maguire

What I read over the past seven months:
Monkey Dancing: A Father, Two Kids, and a Journey to the Ends of the Earth by Daniel Glick
Shadows and Wind: A Modern View of Viet Nam by Robert Templer
Vietnam: A Quick Guide to Customs and Etiquette from Culture Smart
The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester
Frangiapani by Celestine Vaite
Lovely Bones by Alice Sebold
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night by Mark Haddon
Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Gypsy World:The Silence of the Living and the Voices of the Dead by Patrick Williams
The Anthropology of Real Life: Events in Human Experience by Philip Carl Salzman

fave: Look, it's me!

He was so excited to have the photograph of him and his buddy that he wanted me to take another photo of him with the photograph.

fave: Stuart

He was a great sport with the kids at the Tam Ky orphanage, even when they tied him up with jump ropes.

favorite photos

Audrey as a pirate in Ha Long Bay.

asian toilets (aka squats)

A lot of people ask about the squat toilets, so here's a brief rundown.

They're not nearly as awful as people assume. They are just different. Remember to keep pocket packs of tissue since toilet paper is a rare commodity in some places (especially on the trains). Don't try to do any thigh-burning squats, just drop the booty down. The hose and sprayer scare people, as well, but if you learn to use them it will make life easier. Use the toilet paper only to dry. :) Often you must throw the used tissue into a trash can, so doing it this way keeps the smell down (sorry!).

If there is a bucket of water, do not use it to wash yourself, but rather as a way to 'flush' the toilet.

Bathrooms are a big deal for a lot of people, but if you just do what the locals do (or a slight variation) it will make it a bit easier for everyone. Don't be scared. :)

Restaurants in Ha Noi

Chuc Linh: 73 Hang Bac-**
Okay food, but nothing to brag about. I ate fried rice (com rang rau) that was pretty good, but Audrey's pasta was tasteless. Stuart had a hamburger and they did a nice job with that, included ketchup even. Not bad, but I doubt we'd go back.

Ciao Cafe: 02 Hang Bai-*****
We eaten here a number of times and have never been disappointed. Chicken Cordon Bleu, cheeseburgers, lasagna, pizza, garlic bread, lemon juice... it's all good. It is quite hip inside and very Western, but the prices were still reasonable and the fruit drinks were delicious. Seemed to be the place for late 20-somethings to meet up with friends and chat (both live and on their mobiles). Free WiFi during specific hours (not traditional meal times).
-
Al Fresco's: 23L Hai Ba Trung-****
A hit with the kids, this place was a taste of home, for sure. Feeling a bit homesick for the US? Come here and it's like you're back on American soil, sans the 20-hour flight. Labeled as Tex-Mex in our guidebook, I was a bit dubious of the quality in a country so far from Mexico, but they do a darn fine job with it. We had a chicken quesadilla (can you say tiny?), potato wedges w/ bacon and sour cream, and small nachos. There were plenty of potatoes and nachos, but the quesadilla was the size of a tea saucer. The prices are high for the quality of food, but the kids love it. They have a coloring contest and a spin-the-wheel games for the little ones.

Papa Joe's Coffee: 112 Cau Go-***
Same Western-style food as their sister restaurant Al Fresco's, but we like this place for their ice cream and wi-fi. Their soft-serve is some of the best we've had and seeing as it's in the middle of the Old Quarter/Hoan Kiem area, we pass it far too often. They have an all-you-can-eat ice cream bar, always a hit with kids. The paninis are pretty darn good and on Thursdays they're buy one get one free. They also have a lunch special of soup, fried rice and drink for about 35,000VND. Sit up on the third floor for the best view and enjoy the wi-fi and some dessert.

The Garden: 36 Hang Manh-*****
Billed as inexpensive in our guidebook, we found it to be more moderate in price, but worth every bit. Excellent Vietnamese food; easily the best fried rice in town. It's nice enough to have fabric napkins, but relaxed enough that I didn't feel too out of place with kids in tow. Opens at 5pm for dinner.

A Little Italian Restaurant: 78 Tho Nhuon-****
Our first trip here was on the recommendation of a friend; he was right about it. It's a classy little restaurant, but go at off-times and the kids won't bother anyone. The thin-crust pizza is excellent, especially the slightly funky versions. The pasta carbonara was good, but the pizza is where they excelled. And on Saturdays, the pizza was (is?) half-price. Score! Good food at a good price.

Meat shish-ke-bob lady: on Hang Be-***
Okay, so there are a few ladies selling shish-ke-bobs (meat on a stick) on the street, but we particulary like the one near the Ha Noi Spirit House (see above). She charges us 3000VND each (half the price the other woman charged us) and they are so yummy. Two of those and a bowl of rice... a simple dinner for 10-15,000VND (less than $1USD), depending on where you buy a bowl of rice.

Moca Cafe: 68 Nha Tho-****
The closest I could possibly come to a Portland cafe in Ha Noi. The atmosphere is strictly expat with the prices to prove it. The food is delicious and tastes pretty close to homemade. The breakfast menu is especially good: french toast, banana pancakes and waffles (the kids' faves). And hands-down, the best cheesecake in the country.

KFC: (near Vincom Tower)-**
Same ol' fast food, but in smaller portions and smaller prices. We were bitterly disappointed in the lack of barbecue sauce, but must admit that the kids got a kick out of this novelty. Same kid's meal with a toy, just in a different country. Not the same biscuit though, to my own disappointment. Here it's been replaced by a bread roll. One time was enough.

BBQ Chicken:-**
A Korean chain of fast food restaurants, it opened in March here in Ha Noi. The prices are quite high, but the quality was fair. They have Coke Chicken, which is a strange sounding concoction, but stranger in reality. It's simply a large cup of Coke with a special lid that sits down in the cup and holds a small handful of popcorn chicken. We couldn't quite figure out why? it needed to be this way, but we were stumped.

Rating: *=Terrible *****=Excellent

Copyright 2007 VietnamWithKids.com

Favorite Places in Ha Noi

Museum of Ethnology a great place for all of us with plenty of interesting things to see, including a variety of ethnic minority houses


The Children's Park at Lenin Parkseveral play areas for different ages and abilities, plus a so-called roller coaster and plenty of walking paths

One Pillar Pagoda (Chua Mot Cot)not so interesting to see for the kids, but it's a must-see just because you'll recognize it elsewhere as a symbol of Ha Noi

Temple of Literature (Quoc Tu Giam) an ancient university of sorts, the grounds are lovely to walk in and beautiful for photos

Hoan Kiem Lake the center of the city, it's best early in the morning before the tourists hit

St. Joseph's Cathedral an excellent navigational point in the Old Quarter, watch for Sunday services.


Vincom Tower head to the top floor for the arcade and a great break from the sellers and tourists

Name those seeds.

They are watermelon seeds and eaten much like Americans eat sunflower seeds. Usually eating watermelon seeds is something to do to pass the time while chatting and you'll see them covering the ground at many outdoor cafes. Vietnamese bite them in a particular way and pry them open with their tongues. I could never quite nail it, but, no surprise, Audrey did it like a native.

I miss watermelon seeds.

Last day in Tam Ky (journal)

5 March 2007
This is it--our last day. We went to the Baby Orphanage, after some mad packing after breakfast and dragging it all downstairs, with the other volunteers. All our replacements. I'm really going to miss those kids. I love playing iwth them and being silly with them. Lan has really attached herself to me and I feel bad that I have to just leave. It's been such a great experience and I'm so connected to them all. The twin hellion girls. The little rambunctious boys. The quiet ones, especially Quy even though she cries all the time.

Each little kid has their own little thing that I will remember about them. It's so hard to leave and I just hope that they will be loved. It's amazing how close I've become to the kids here; I knew I would enjoy it, but I really didn't think it would be quite this strong of a bond with them. I really do wish I could do more them--take one or two home with me. Or something. It feels a bit frustrating. These kids are so wonderful and loving and really just need to be loved a bit more.

We said a quick goodbye, as to avoid the tears, then hurried back to the house to make sure all of our stuff was packed. We still had more (shoes, books) and decided to leave some (clarinet, clothes) to get later.

Mr. Hanh had to go back and get the other volunteers; we waited at the house watching time pass and consoling Mrs Hanh, who was crying pretty darn hard. I felt so bad for her, for Audrey. We've grown to love Mrs Hanh very much and even though we have plans to come back, it is still hard to say goodbye.

creativity required (journal)

9 March 2007
The power's out and we've run out of things to do. We've made shadow puppets, read by candlelight, told stories and tried watch a video on the computer, but the battery died. Ugh! It's not even 8pm. Stuart, not too surprisingly, is already tired and could go to sleep, but Audrey is still wired. Double ugh! We've been power-less for about three hours so far. It's one of the odd things about Viet Nam. Power is never guaranteed. We've lost power in every city we have been in. We've lost it everyday we've been in Ha Noi this time. I don't know why. It wasn't so bad elsewhere. It's strange when it's out for so long. And it's out in a huge area, too, almost as far as we can see to the north and west of us. To the east, just a couple of blocks away they have power. Probably our old hotel has power. Bummer.

creepy crawlies

What the Vietnamese lack in stature is more than equalized by the size of the creepy crawlies they've got running around here. Prior to my first encounter, folks had warned me about the size and danger of the numerous insects and spiders, but always in a third-generation "My best friend's cousin's nephew was in 'Nam and he said..." Yeah, whatever, thanks anyway.

Admittedly, I was a bit wary, hoping I'd make it through without seeing anything with eight (or more) legs worthy of documenting on film. I managed to sleep right through the first sighting, only 12 days into our stay, but Audrey was brave enough to wield the camera.

Clare, Jo and Leah had quickly developed a comraderie that was slowly including us, but with our disparate ages it wasn't easy. Audrey was half Clare's age and I was double of Clare's. Stuart was the closest in age, only a few years younger, but factor in the different gender and the bond was slow-growing. Besides we were a trio, a self-made group that didn't need the socialization with the other volunteers as much as they needed each other. We talked to each other far more than we ever spoke to anyone else, not the best idea perhaps, but it is the way we work.

One night the trio was downstairs talking and giggling, but it soon changed to quiet screams and laughing. Audrey awoke to their noise and crept out to the landing to call down to them. "What are you guys doing?" she asked, only to find out that there was an enormous spider in the kitchen. Ever the curious one, she ran down the stairs to check it out.

Sure enough, there by the glass-less window was an enormous spider--the size of a saucer--perched on the wall. This wasn't one to be smacked by a rolled up magazine or a shoe. It was huge. A bit of "You kill it." "No, you!" went on before Claire got brave enough to spray it with the ant poison that was kept in the kitchen.

She sprayed and sprayed while the thing twitched, turned brown, started convulsing and, to the horror of everyone, started throwing its babies out. A hundred or more tiny clone-like spiders shot out webs and started toward the floor, away from the rapidly expiring mother spider. Claire sprayed while the others screamed. The excitement ended soon enough though and everyone comforted each other--there's no spider tonight, nothing to scare us. But no one slept very peacefully.

sick and tired (journal)

4 March 2007
I woke up this morning feeling kind of icky, but within an hour I felt like I was going to die. Okay, maybe that's an exaggeration, but I did feel really horrible. Like I had bad bronchitis or possibly pneumonia again. That kind of sick where all you can do is cry. So bad. Stuart was very helpful, putting the laundry up to dry and lying with me for a bit. Audrey made me a really sweet get well card, too. I was real worried about our trip to Ha Noi tomorrow. Mrs Hanh was very worried, too ("Teresa coming hospital!") so I told her what the problem was--very tired, hard to breath, and my chest was hurting. She said she had been sick this week, too, and said it was the same for her. I have a disgusting cough to go along with it, though. I've been dealing with this cough since before Tet [I still have the cough.]

Anyway, Mrs Hanh assured me that she had some medicine for me. At this point, I'm willing to endure being scraped with a silver spoon if it might make me feel better. She went back home and brought a little square packet: "Meko coramin" and "Mekophar." No idea what that means, but I'm desperate, so I took the square tablet, as directed by Mrs Hanh: Place it on my tongue and let it dissolve slowly.

Pauline took the kids out for a bike ride (with helmets, as always) and let me rest plus chat with Lee for a bit. It was super nice of her. The night before we'd joked that we looked like a happy lil' family at the coffee shop: Dad, Mom, two kids and Grandma. Today she acted like a grandma, taking the kids so I could rest. So very sweet.

Within about an hour of taking/eating the tablet, I was back to 80%. Felt so much better Seriously amazing. The pain in my chest was gone and I no longer felt an intense desire to cry myself to sleep. Ah, the joy of unknown meds. ha!

Lunch at the Tam Ky Baby Orphanage

Monkey Dancing, the novel

I started reading Monkey Dancing about a year ago. Okay, maybe a bit less than that...10 months or so. It was a required reading for a travel writing class at PSU that I wanted to take, but couldn't fit it in. So I bought the text instead. It is, as the subtext says, the story of "A father, two kids, and a journey to the ends of the earth." Daniel Glick decided to take his kids on an adventure they'd never forget and traveled through Australia, SE Asia, and Europe with them (joined for a short stint by his girlfriend). It's a great story and in so many ways I related to his stories. His children were 9 and 13, the boy is oldest. Mine are 9 and 14, Stuart is older. He's divorced. His daughter whined, so did mine. He felt passion for the difference that he was making in his children's mind and also in the writing he did during and after his trip. I am dedicated to my children and the orphans in Viet Nam, though my ability to spread the message is limited to this blog (for now). His stories rang so true and I knew just what he felt at many points along the way.

A great read and definitely recommended for travelers, parents and interested bystanders. It was published in 2003 by Public Affairs Books. Look for it at your locally-owned bookstore or order it through him.

Han (journal entry)

9 February 2007
Another lovely day in Tam Ky, Viet Nam. The weather is gorgeous, though I will admit to it taking its toll on me when I ride out to the orphanage. It makes me more tired, so it's a bit harder to play with the kids. Not the way they want me to, at least. They really love the grabbing and tickling and chasing and carrying, but it's hard to do that after getting all sweaty and tired from the bike ride.

Today I rode in the car-only the third time to the Baby Orphanage. Jo and Charlie came along, as well as Kim, so it was quite a crew of us--nine of us in all. The kids all seemed to love it, though, especially to have another 'boy' to play with.

We picked up Han on the way to the Baby Orphanage. She lives at the Rehab Hospital during the week, but comes back to the orphanage on the weekends. She came to the orphanage five or six months ago. First, her grandmother brought her in, but they would not take her because she is disabled (no muscle tone or control in her lower body). So that night the grandmother left Han in front of the orphanage. GVN volunteers felt really bad for her and two of them are paying for her hospital stay and rehabilitation.

There's high hope for her gaining muscle strength since Mrs. Hanh's son Trung had the same sort of issue going on and he lived at the hospital for two years and now he can walk okay. Still has a lot of trouble with eating, but his muscle strength is much better. So there is hope for Han to get a bit better. Stuart seems to like her a lot. She laughs at his antics--always a good thing.

[Rumor has it that Han is being adopted by an American family. I can only hope it's true; she's such a cutie.]

unpublished

An article I wrote, but haven't had anyone grab yet....


Making a Small Difference in the World
In central Vietnam, a single-parent family finds purpose

The young children, barely able to conceal their anticipation, stood shoulder-to-shoulder across the steps of the Tam Ky Baby Orphanage, straining to see us, the new volunteers, tucked into an aged, white Fiat.

Our first meeting was a clumsy mix of high-fives, stares and run-by leg slaps. The orphans were testing us, I'd later realize, and I worried that committing to volunteer at the orphanage for two months was the worst idea I'd ever followed through on.

Ten months prior, I had suggested volunteering in Vietnam to my two children, then 8 and 13. They agreed and over the summer, then fall, and into winter we made the preparations: obtaining passports, applying for our visas, and then selling most of belongings to finance the trip.

Now as I stood in the chilly, concrete play area, surrounded by faces filled with curiosity, doubt and a tinge of fear, I couldn't help but wonder what exactly I had gotten us into. After the first hour, when I heard the giggles of both my kids and the orphans, I no longer worried. This was indeed worth everything we'd sacrificed to get here.


Every morning, for the next eight weeks, we visited the Baby Orphanage, a small, cement complex of rooms, to play with the children. My son Stuart, as the only male to interact with the children, was an immediate rock star; at each arrival he was swarmed by his admiring fans and two hours later, the children would have to be pried off his back, his shoulders, his legs.

Audrey, my nine-year-old daughter, let her nurturing instincts peek through and spent much of the time with a trio of orphans we nicknamed The 3 Musketeers--they were always together. Our daily visits promoted a wonderful friendship and she became particularly close to Kieu, an spunky little 2-year-old girl who had been abandoned within the first few days of our stay.

Quang, a delightful 5-year-old, had immediately connected with Stuart and the developed a relationship that ended all too abruptly when an American family came to adopt him. Wishes of luck were voiced, but tears were shed in private.

Despite the inability to communicate or, even pronounce their names correctly, our family developed a fondness for the numerous children who called this place home. Some had been there for years, others, like Kieu had been there a short while. Each has their own personality, their own quirks that emblazoned their faces into our memories for a lifetime.


While my children played with the orphans, I often found myself in the baby room, a barren room except for the large, wooden slat beds where the babies laid until we came to hold them. Covered in mosquito nets that sat over them like small umbrellas, the babies were more than eager to be cuddled, kissed and sung to; I was more than happy to oblige.

The orphanages, like the country as a whole, are very poor. The food provided for the children was limited to rice gruel--three times a day, a diet that lacks in many of the required vitamins and minerals necessary for young children. To combat the problem in some small way, we brought fruit at each visit, their only fresh produce for the day, and learned the Vietnamese word for each kind, yelling out a mangled "Dua!" or "Le!" as we brought in the bags.

Several children faced serious malnutrition issues prior to their arrival and despite the orphanage "mothers" doing all they could, they simply couldn't put on much weight. We brought along sua chua (yogurt) for the extra calories they so desperately needed.

Our two months as volunteers were filled with myriad activities: near-constant games of chase for my son (the official rough-houser for the group), consoling the criers, playing kitchen with the few battered toys available, bottle-feeding babies. I watched from the side many mornings, pleased to watch as my children shared themselves with these strangers who had quickly become friends, regardless of the cultural differences. Communication had be limited to gestures, but somehow the kids had managed, even flourished.

This, the connection between cultures, between countries, was what I had hoped for all those months prior when, sitting in a cafe on a drizzly March morning in Portland, when I marked on the application: "Vietnamese Orphanage, 2 months."

traffic in QN

Speaking of Quang Ngai and traffic... I just came across this interesting bit of news. Seems that it's the most accident prone province with more than 150 traffic accidents in the first six months of the year, with 52 casualties. Terrible.

The English is pretty good, but I can't help but be entertained by the grammar and word choice.

Despite heartbreaking accidents, crashes and falling stones, as well as drastic measures taken by local authorities, money thirsting drivers defiantly keep racing on the way. Asked why driving so fast, some frankly reply they are in a hurry just because they want to make as much money as possiple.

http://www.quangngai.gov.vn/quangngai/english/news/2007/22101/

suicide vans

One of the ways that locals get around the country is by using what are often called buses (xe buyt), but are really just modified mini-vans. They add side seats and allow people to stand, put a bench seat in the front and stuff as many people in as possible. We took one to and from Quang Nhai to visit the My Lai Massacre site.
They are commonly referred to as suicide vans because the drivers go as fast as they can, down whatever lane they feel like and you really are signing over your life. Made for an interesting adventure:


25 February 2007
Whoa. What a loooooong day. I was so exhausted by the time I got home. We'd walked for about 4 or 5 km from the bus stop to home, after riding in a stuffed mini-van. And I do mean stuffed. There were 21 people in a vehicle that normally holds 7-9 people. Insane. We were so squished in: Stuart crammed against the window with my left hip slightly overlapping his right hip and Audrey laying across our laps. My legs were pinned between a bag and the front seat. I quickly lost my shoe and all feeling in my feet. Mette and Hannah wedged themselves in next to me and were held in place by the riders standing between the seats and the door. And for all that comfort we paid 70,000VND each (almost $13USD).

poetic

Herons
White wings
stretched open
embrace the sky
sailing, floating
over the easy sway
of green tendrils.

15 Feb 2007

pondering the music

Stuart made a good point today. For the list of "What Hasn't Changed in 7 Months," I can add music on 94.7fm. I generally like the station, but they are playing the exact same songs that they played nearly a year ago. Boooring.

What we really need is an iPod that works again. We have Stuart's Shuffle, but my big one and Audrey's Shuffle died along the way. Put that on my list of things to buy soon. I miss my decent variety of music and the opportunity to listen to audiobooks while wandering random sidewalks. I do love walking and listening.

I'll get some pics up soon.

the view from here

Well, I gotta go get Stuart from his long visit with his friend, so I'll be gone for a bit over an hour. Bad timing, but oh well. Here's a couple photos of my view, first from where I sit typing and then out to my left. Yeah, it's pretty in Oregon:

cravings

Before you get scared, no, I'm not preggers.

I stayed with my good friend Goolie the other night and I had the most insane craving for rice and fruit. I wanted it so bad, I went to the store, bought dried rice and some bananas, a peach and mixed melons. Came back to her house and cooked up the rice, then happily ate it with soy sauce and chopsticks. I used a mug instead of a bowl, but even with the minor variations, it felt like home. Oh yes, I do love fruit and rice.

Classes at the Home of Affection

5 February 2007
We visited the Baby Orphanage in the morning and that went well. Stuart stayed home with a sore throat, so I tried to fill in a bit doing the physical play--running around with kids on my back, etc. It was pretty fun and it's nice that the kids are finally starting to like me. Today they actually blew me kisses goodbye. Just a couple of them, but it was really sweet. Made me feel like I'm getting somewhere with them. The beginning with them was so awful--just chaotic and mean. Now they are much better. Thank goodness because I was really worried about being here for two months and now I know it will be okay and go fast anyway. We only have just over two weeks of classes. Okay, so i counted and there's only 11 days of teaching this whole month. That's crazy! Well, I can do that. We have 15-25 February with no work because of the Tet holiday.

So the afternoon class at the Home of Affection went pretty well. I have four kids--Son, Huy, Trinh and Thao. Thao is a bright girl, but with a rebellious streak in her. The boys are pretty nice, but Huy is my favorite. He always tries hard to do what I want him to. Very cute. They all are a bit ornery, but not too bad now. Thank goodness. It was so hard for a while.

The train from Hue

We went to the pastry shop before leaving town and bough about a dozen to take back to the GVN house, yummy! Then back to the hotel, checked out ($45) and caught a cab to the train station. We got there about 45 minutes early, but it was okay. Our train got there at 8:37a.m. and we got first car again, soft seats with air con. It was finally sunny (now that we are leaving) so the train ride was really beautiful. We got a bunch of photos--again.

In Da Nang a bunch of people got off the train, so we split up a bit so we could be more comfortable. Audrey was practicing writing Vietnamese, adding to her book. It always draws attention (she gets plenty already) so soone enough, we were surrounded by train employees. All watching her, helping with the marks/tones. Then one of the fellows started asking questions, in Vietnamese so we had to try to translate via the phrasebook, about her dad. Audrey explained through pictures that we divorced. He asked something that I thought was something like "Do you have a Vietnamese boyfriend?" and I said no, then Audrey drew a heart with "Khong yeu" (no love) written inside it. Come to find out, it meant "Do you want a Vietnamese husband?" Completely different question! I can't help but wonder what he thought the 'no love in her heart' drawing meant.

animals (journal entry)

16 January 2007
Courtney emailed Audrey and asked about the weird animals in Viet Nam, but there aren't many, mostly it's just that they are in weird places, like chickens at the motorbike shop, water buffalo on the main street, dogs roasted at the market, cattle roaming the fields. Which reminds me--we saw dogs on the way to their demise yesterday. There were five or six packed into a box on the back of a motorbike. Still alive, but laying squished together on top of each other. A bit disconcerting. I don't really have a problem with them eating dog (to each their own), but seeing any animal go to the slaughter gives me the creeps. Icky.

Other strange things:
cactus I never would have thought it grew here.
fruit it's everywhere to be sold, but where does it grow?
gravel made of marble and granite
internet cafes like coffee shops in Portland-they are everywhere!
ice cream & cookies they just suck here
Milo with sweetened condensed milk, it is heaven :)
gov't officials standing with machine guns at gov't buildings
coughing kids get yelled at when coughing to distract them

the market in Tam Ky

6 January 2007

...After lunch was the market. Whee! It was fantastic for all the fabrics. Crazy prices, like 20,000VND ($1.10) per yard. I bough enough fabric for two dresses and two tops for about 250,000VND (about $15USD). And one dress is lined. It'll cost about $20 to have them made. How crazy is that?!

I ended up buying all with with polka dots fabric, except for some fake Hello Kitty fabric with a red background (though it did have some dots sprinkled around). Cute.

The tailor came over later in the evening and did all the measuring for our stuff. I'm getting two button-front tops, a housewife dress and a copy of my China dress [sent by Tommy's parents last fall]. I need to have her make a couple of dark ones like that, too. Just have to find the right fabric. Maybe at the end of the trip?

The market was crazy and the kids were the center of attention. They are one of the few (if not the ONLY) Western children they have ever seen. As Western adults, we got stared at, but the kids were mobbed. People have no problem coming up to them, pulling them close, pinching Audrey's nose, touching their faces, etc. And the staring! It just goes on and on. Poor Audrey grew more and more frustrated, but luckily Jo, Claire, Leah and Mrs. Hanh all took a bit of pity on her and Stuart and we just kind of circled the kids. It's really hard being the strange one, though. It's a fascination with our whiteness, which is seen as beautiful. It's a bit depressing because I think all skin color is beautiful, not just white. The women powder their faces and stay indoors, just to appear whiter.

Hopefully the fascination will taper down a bit over time, but who knows. For the kids' sake, I hope it does.

Truc at the Home of Affections

5 January 2007 continued
We came back for lunch, I went to the internet cafe (2000VND/hr-cheap!) and sent a few emails, then we headed out again. This time to the Home of Affection. It's much closer, less than 10 minutes by bike.

It was quite different from the baby orphanage because it is also a school and the play area was larger, but not covered. The kids there range from 4-16 years old. Many have one (or both) parents alive, but they were too poor or the government took them.

The 16-year-old is Nga and she is deaf. She is fluent in sign and so we were having a good time trying to communicate. There are many differences [between American Sign Language and Vietnamese Sign Language], but I was able to pick up a bit of it. She was teaching me more and I'm hoping to get fairly decent at it by the time we leave.

There is another child there who is supposedly 16, but he has something wrong with him [Added: we were later told he was 14, so I don't know how old he really is]. He is about the size of a 6- or 7-year-old and has the mental ability of someone around 4 years old. It was shocking to find out his age. He always wants to be held and just repeats "Hello. How are you?" over and over.

This seems to be the key phrase that people learn. The other is "Hello. What is your name?" Everywhere we go people should "Hello!" and, sometimes, the other bits as well.

Some of the kids at the orphanage can speak pretty well, mostly the older girls who were a bit awestruck by Stuart. Too funny.

Today we just visited, but next week we will start teaching there. My kids were a bit bored and happy to leave; we'll see how next week goes.

Tu (journal entry, part 2)

5 January 2007 (continued)
Oh, there's also a little boy there who is 6 years old and, honestly, the size of an 18-month-old [okay, maybe 2]. His brain is fine, but his body has just stopped growing. Yen says that when she met him two years ago, he was the same size. They feed him extra with GVN volunteers bringing him yoghurt several times a week, but it hasn't made any difference yet. Sad, but he's adorable and seems fine with his size. It makes him very nimble and quick. He's like a little monkey the way he runs around and does flips.

The babies range from one week to eight months old and except for Fat Baby (his nickname), they are all tiny lil' things. So fragile looking.

One of the kids told Yen that Audrey had something stuck on her legs. Yen looked and come to find out they didn't recognize that it was hair. Their bodies are hairless. None on their arms or legs. We are hairy beasts in comparison.

We spent about an hour there and by the time Stuart left, he was nice and sweaty. Those of us that rode bikes out, rode them back, though it was a bit tougher on the way home since we were a bit tired out. It was a fun ride, though, riding down little one lane roads past chickens and water buffalo. Odd but fantastic. I know that we will never forget this place, this whole experience.

volunteering: day one

Journal entry: 5 January 2007

Our first full day in our new home and it went pretty well. I was fairly nervous about it, but it was all okay in the end. We had breakfast (yea for fruit and yoghurt!) then took off to visit the baby orphanage.

The name is a bit of a misnomer as there are many more little kids than babies. But they take babies and keep them until age 18 or until adopted. Right now, two of the babies are getting ready to be adopted by foreigners. I have mixed feelings about that because it seems a bit colonialist to come in and take the babies, but no one here adopts babies, so they are stuck there forever if the foreigners don't take them. Well, until they are 18, but that seems like forever. Their chances for a good (prosperous, educated, comfortable) life are much better if adopted by foreigners, but... still there's something about it that bothers me.

We also found out that if the father dies, the government will often take the child(ren) away from the mother and put them in the orphanage. I feel so bad for the poor mother. First she loses her husband, then her child(ren). How depressing.

The orphanage wasn't too terrible. Very different from what you'd see in the States (do we even have orphanages there?). All the buildings are concrete with barred windows (this is the main style of building for everything). They form a rectangle around the playground which is about 40 ft by 25 ft. There are some metal swings, bench-style, and a TV, a teeter-totter and a small play structure with a slide and a couple of swings. Very minimal. Most of it is on cement, but the play set is on a softer rubber material. They also brought out some toys (volunteers hold the key to the cupboard) and the kids flipped out, they were so excited.

There were about 10 kids little kids there, from 3-12 years old. Most were 4-6 years old, it seemed. Then there were six babies if I remember correctly.

We'd ridden bikes out there (Leah, me and Claire) and got there 5 minutes before Jo, my kids and Yen, the organizer. When Stuart and Audrey first arrived it was a bit shocking for them. The orphan kids just gathered around and stared. It took about five minutes or so before they loosened up and everyone started playing together. Stuart was great with the kids--just as I'd expected. He played chase and catch and gave them airplane rides. It was awesome to watch them all play. Audrey latched onto Trinh, a small girl in a yellow hat, and a set of twins [Thao and Trang]. She seemed very happy and that was great to see.

It was a hard decision to do this and was especially hard to do at the end, but we managed somehow and it seems to be working.

volunteers

Jo came from Australia to volunteer with GVN in Tam Ky. She was there for only a month and in that time we became good friends, but she and Audrey became sisters. She's a ton of fun and loved to run and play with the orphans, chasing and carrying them as much as they wanted. She was an all-star volunteer. Having her leave was pretty hard; Audrey wrote the most heart-wrenching goodbye letter ever. Still makes me teary-eyed.

As volunteers there, we are all excited to be there and quickly fall in love with those kids. The first couple of days, granted, were hard. Who knows what to expect? I know I only had some rough ideas and most were wrong. Soon enough, they wiggle their way in and you build bonds with them. It's such a strange thing, too, considering we can't really communicate beyond gestures. Somehow we all manage to understand each other and over time the friendship and the trust grows. It's the best part about volunteering. The kids know you are coming and wait patiently on the front steps for the bikes to pull in, for the car to park. Out we'd pour from the car and they'd run up and give us big leg-hugs, wanting to be picked up and carried as much as possible. Stuart always got mobbed on arrival. Being the only boy certainly had some perks when it came to popularity.

The only bad thing is that we all have to leave. There's no staying forever, though Hannah (who stayed for five months) might argue with that. And while the volunteer may grow tired of the simple, repetitive life of Tam Ky, it's never easy. There are always tears shed, sometimes a stunning amount. And yet, the orphans are oblivious to our sadness, kept sheltered from knowing that we are leaving and unlikely to return.

We were lucky and stayed in Viet Nam long enough for a return visit to the orphanage, but it wasn't smooth sailing the second time around.

sweet

Hang and An
from the Home of Affection

Caroline

While scouring through our more than 8000 photos from our time in Viet Nam, I came across pictures of this baby. I was contacted a while ago by her prospective adoptive mother to find out if I had any information or more photos on this baby. I didn't know her name or any facts, but I did have a few more pictures (and I think I found even more!). Come to find out, she already had one of my photos from the orphanage with her daughter and my son with the orphanage 'mother.'

Checking back on her blog this morning to assure myself that I had the right baby in the photos, I was happy to find out that they've arrived in Viet Nam, made it down to Tam Ky and are now on their way home. In fact (if I can remember what day it is) they're already home! She has a family, at last.

wouldn't it figure?

Yeah, so I can't even remember what day it is anymore. I'm so off. The other day I updated the front page of the site and labeled it the 19th, when in actuality it was the 23rd. Last night I went to sleep around 11, not a clue that the blogathon started an hour later. I wake up this morning, sit down to my computer and notice the day: Saturday. Hmm, I think to myself, what do I have going on today? Oh yea, the Blogathon. Ugh, I already started off on the wrong foot. -sigh- So here's to a better connection than I'm getting right this minute. And I'll be back to post something real in a bit.

Gratitude

I am thankful for friends. And for my children's friends.
We dropped by the kids' school to see if any of her friends happened to be there. Lucky for Audrey, several were hanging out at the child care center and Audrey was greeted with awkward silence that soon morphed into excited chatter.


I am thankful for the generosity of others. Hanna Anderson was kind enough to donate several boxes full of quality children's clothing for the orphans. Now, they will have clothes that can be worn for longer than a few months! Fantastic.

The Blogathon is coming up, so let me know if you have any specific questions you want answered. And don't forget to sponsor our blog; all the money goes direction to Children of Vietnam.

ugh

Well, the one week mark came and went, but the melancholy feelings have stayed, perhaps even worsened as time goes on. I was expecting to feel some loss, some culture shock from the big cars and big people. I didn't think I'd find myself horrified by the constant narrative on the television about why Americans are fat with frequent advertisements for how Americans can pay to stop being so fat. It's this strange teeter-totter thing, back and forth. And nothing really changes.

The kids and I make jokes to deal with the differences, for us. We went shopping for some paint (going to paint the treehouse) and paper (must write long-hand!) yesterday and I was griping about not being able to find a product and some random fellow shopper started chatting with me about the frustrations of the store layout. As the kids and I walked away, Stuart turned and joked, "Wow, her English is really good!" I needed the laugh. Outside the store, some man was talking with his kid in something akin to Farsi and I slowed my walking speed just to hear something I couldn't understand. I've taken to kind of turning off my ears at times. The overwhelming amount of talking, in English, annoys me. I don't want or need to understand everything that is said. Besides it takes the challenge out of communication, something I began to actually enjoy most of the time. (Granted there were a few times when I just wanted to sit down and cry: "Doesn't anyone speak English?!")

I've sent in my resume and applications for eight jobs so far. None pay anything close to what I was earning in Viet Nam. My students write and can't understand why I am not teaching. "You are best teacher. Why no one can teach?" one student emailed me. The strictness of the law regarding teaching in the US doesn't allow me to do what I love, so I have to find something else. But those of us with English majors are prevalent, so writing and editing jobs are few and snapped up as quickly as possible. Honestly, I've only found two jobs that entail writing. The others are tangent jobs that I could do, but not what I'm looking for (i.e. hauling boxes of food at the local Farmer's Market). I haven't heard back from anything.

I put notice up online via Craigslist for custom sewing, since that's easy enough for me to do, but no bites yet. And I'm re-working my Vietnamwithkids.com website. I got the front page up and then hated it. I fixed it more to my liking, but the interior pages are causing me hassle in the design area. Just can't get it to the point that I like it. Another frustration.

Sometimes it's hard to not wander my parents' small forest, silently crying over my life that seems completely without purpose. I felt like I was improving the world a tiny bit at a time when I was in Viet Nam. And now, the thoughts "waste of breath" and "pointless" invade my day and I can't figure out what the heck I can do. I could volunteer my time, but that's dismissed as ridiculous when I'm looking for work. And gas prices are so crazy-high that I can't afford to go anywhere. No money coming in, so no money can go out.

I really don't know how people do this. Landing in Viet Nam was difficult, but it was never so depressing.

Separation Anxiety

It doesn't to be as much of an issue as I thought it might be, for the kids as well as me. For the first time in seven months, we all spent the night away from each other. Stuart went with his friend Zach up to Washington to celebrate his birthday. Audrey headed up to Vancouver to spend the time with her cousins (and my sister). I spent the weekend hanging out with my good friends Jaymee and Goolie. I made it a point to not call the kids to see how they were; I know that they can call me if there is a problem. No one called and we all had fun in our own ways, though we missed each other as well. We've become a different kind of family now. The kids are more independent, yet we have a deeper connection with each other than before.

Stuart was excited to show me his photos of the San Juan Islands and was amused that he has been through Seattle three times in one week. We hadn't been for the two previous years, but now he's a frequent visitor. Too funny.

Audrey tried to share her love of crochet with her cousin, V., but she didn't attach to it in the way that Audrey has. So they found other things to do. She had a great time, she says, but was eager to be back with us.

I got to see a band play, ran into old friends, bummed around S.E. Portland (including the book store--ah, home!), then Saturday night had a bunch of friends over. I was pleasantly surprised to see what of my favoritest musician, Rick Bain, play in someone's backyard and later met up with friends I hadn't seen in nearly a year.

Then when it was time for the kids to come home, I was pleased to have them back. They are my comfort zone and with them I'm happy. I'm still fighting the sadness and find myself just sitting, staring into space and dreaming of Viet Nam. Then I yank myself back and remember how much I need to get done.

----
I'm going to do the Blogathon this year. It is on Saturday and it entails me posting every 30 minutes for 24 hours. Some of these posts are bound to get pretty silly, I'm sure, but it will be a good reason to work up some bits of writing and pictures to post. Your part is to sponsor my blog. I'll be blogging to raise funds for Children of Vietnam (COV), a non-profit that goes to central Viet Nam twice a year to bring necessities to the kids. I'll be trying to raise some funds for them, so donate if you can.

I've been working on some local awareness raising and donation gathering and happy to say I'll be getting some clothing donated from a local company. Woohoo! I was hoping to be able to travel with COV when they go in September, but I don't see it being a realistic possibility, so I'll have to mail off the donations that I receive instead. Whatever. The kids will get it and that's what is important to me. I'll be looking for some quality blankets for them next, and then trying to find a shipper for them that won't charge me the price of an airline ticket to get them there.

always more to come...

more pictures

I uploaded some more photos to Flickr today from Window of the World.

I made fried rice for dinner tonight and couldn't help but rinse the rice a few times and then look for the bottled water to cook it in. Then I remembered that we have tap water that you can drink. Strange.

Going through the grocery store today (a Fred Meyer, for the curious) was a bit overwhelming for my little brain, but I noticed things that I'd never taken note of before. Like the insane number of magazines proclaiming the magic key for weight loss. And how the candy bars are lined up, and on sale right next to them. How about not buying the candy OR the magazine and head over to the fresh fruits. I miss the fruit market so much. There are a wide variety here, but the tropical fruits are lame examples of the quality available abroad.


And how did I GAIN five pounds eating fruit and rice and drinking loads of water? I don't get it. I thought I'd go to Viet Nam and lose a few off this chubby American body, but somehow managed to gain a few instead. -sigh-

jet lag

It sucks. That's all I really need to say about that, but I'll just keep writing anyway. I can't seem to sleep at night; all day I'm exhausted. Stuart had to wake me up at 10:30 a.m. today. Me! The girl who can't seem to sleep past sun-up slept past breakfast. Crazy. And now here it is, one o'clock in the morning and I don't feel the slightest bit sleepy.

Of course this may have to do with my mind working a million miles an hour trying to figure out what to do first on my enormous, mental to-do list. So many things to do, but I can't get the motivation. I keep thinking about all my friends/students in Thanh Hoa and how I let them down unexpectantly and how their lives are so much more difficult now, yet my children are so happy to be here. Two important parts of my life clashing so hard.

There's much to do, but I just can't get to it. I think I will resort to an actual "To Do" list, written out in ink, tomorrow and force myself to accomplish something.

arrived

After the unexpected run for the plane after mis-reading the clock, just over the brink of tears, we found that our plane was running nearly an hour late and we wouldn't miss the flight after all. Thank goodness because this consistent run of bad luck is a bit frustrating. We made it and landed at about 11:30a.m. PST.

And let me just say that the guards to get into democratic America are way scarier than communist China. I will not be heading in and out of Canada again unless absolutely necessary. Worst border crossing yet.

We stopped by my sister's house and I had my first startling response of not being stared at. It was odd to walk by people and not have them give a second glance to us. We're the norm again and I don't particularly like it, even though I didn't like being stared at either.

It's an awkward feeling being here. We've gone through so much in the past nearly seven months and yet, we came back to find everything precisely as we left it. My mom even kept my cell phone for me and had it fully charged. It was a sweet gesture, but at the same time I feel as if the person who used that phone such a short time ago is gone; I'm no longer the woman I was in December.

I don't know what I'm going to do exactly. I have to start paying on those darn school loans and I've got to do something with my life. In Viet Nam I felt I had a purpose, but here, it feels pointless. I've got to find something to give purpose or I'll slip into a whirlpool of depression and who needs that?

I emptied our suitcases today and am missing only a couple of things (two of our three stamps--I shoved them into something to keep them safe during our travels, but don't remember what) and found more clothes that I realized we had. It's good to have a space in my parents' house that is ours and for the first time in months, literally, I slept in a bed all by myself. Ahhh. Audrey is ecstatic to be back and has fallen in love with my folks' pet pomeranian, Stuart found the rest of his stored Legos and I am scouring Craigslist for some sort of income.

Life has changed. I have changed. We'll see what happens next. First, though, I've got to buy a new charger for my PowerBook because I was scatterbrained enough to leave the original one in the hotel in Ha Noi and without